


Limbs

by doctorwatsonofhogwarts



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comfort/Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, POV First Person, Physical Disability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-11 23:16:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3336419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorwatsonofhogwarts/pseuds/doctorwatsonofhogwarts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan lost both of his legs. Phil can give him new ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Limbs

When I lost my legs, I felt like my life was over.

I wasn't an athlete or a dancer. Really, I spent most of my life sat down. A friend laughed and said it wouldn't be so bad.

It was.

You see, when you have all your limbs, you can do anything. You can stand up and walk to the kitchen for a drink. You can walk up those stairs to the office. You can take a walk on the beach. You have those possibilities. If you wanted to, you could do it. Nothing stops you from taking up that salsa class or going to the gym besides your own mind.

Once you lose your legs, it's over. You're dependant on other people. You're in a wheelchair for the rest of your life. It's not even walking with crutches while still remaining standing, because it's not just one leg that is missing.

I had to move back in with my parents. Dad had to convert his study into a room for me, because I couldn't get up the stairs. I spent most of my time watching Netflix and staring out of the window at the brick wall that was my neighbour's house, as the view was of the small path between our houses. It wasn't much of a view at all.

I felt useless. I tried to help my mum in the kitchen, I couldn't. The surfaces were too high for me. I did my best to help with chores, but more often than not I made a bigger mess by bumping into something with the back of my wheelchair. My parents smiled and said it's okay. My brother tries to look at my face when he talks, but his eyes move down to where my legs used to be. He has that look on his face. I hate it, but I don't say anything.

I want to dance. I want to run a marathon. I want to take long walks across the countryside I used to hate as a kid. I want to play Just Dance with my brother. So many things I didn't do when I could. Now I can't and I wish I did. I keep living my vegetative state, sat down with my laptop and Netflix and an open box of whatever sweets mum leaves where I can read them.

I ignore calls from my friends. They tried to visit, but it was awkward. My ex called. Said he was sorry about my loss. Nothing died Mark, don't say that. You only say sorry about your loss when someone dies. I haven't died Mark, I lost my legs.

Mum likes to sit and have tea with me. She likes to put Netflix on the big TV and make two cups of tea. She gives me my favourite mug and wheels me into the room, even though she knows I can do it myself. She sits on the sofa and puts a blanket over her legs, as if to pretend she doesn't have them. To make me feel better, I bet is what she's thinking.

They're still there mum.

Its one of those tea times that dad comes back home to. He sits down in the armchair and looks at me like he wants to say something, but doesn't know how.

“You alright dad?” I ask, eyes still on the screen. We were about half way through the first episode of Orange Is The New Black, again.

“What? Yes, yeah I'm fine.” He said uneasily. “Look Dan, there's something I need to tell you, but don't get your hopes up, okay?”

I frown, but nod. “Yeah sure, what's up?”

Dad sighs. “I was talking at work, to my boss that is. He heard about what happened to you,” He paused. I looked away, he knew I didn't like people talking about it. I felt like a circus freak when they did. More than I already did as it was. “I know you don't like it, but he brought it up and he said...well, promise me you won't get your hopes up? Okay? Right, he said he knows this guy...He's this mechanic or scientist, I don't know. But he makes bionic legs. Not like simple prosthetics, but apparently they work like real legs. I don't know how it works or if it even works so well...it's something about connecting to the nerves, you know? Richard tried to explain it, but it just went over my head.”

He paused. Mum looked at him, split between awe and irritation. I guess she didn't want him getting my hopes up.

“Why are you telling me this?” I ask quietly. Things like that must cost a lot of money, which I know we weren't made of.

“Richard...he said he'd talk to him for us. Apparently he doesn't do it for the money, just to help people or something.”

I nodded numbly. Whoever it was, they could give me legs? Legs I could walk with, dance with?

Sorry dad, you got my hopes up.

–

Three weeks of nothing passed. Dad said last week that the guy with the bionic legs agreed to come in today. It was sunny, so mum wheeled me out into the back garden. Said something about me looking sickly pale. I didn't listen, my mind was on the thought of having legs again.

Possibly. It wasn't for certain. The man agreed to come and see me and talk to me. No promises were made.

I was positioned with my back to the door, sat with a sketchbook in my lap. I wasn't good at drawing, but I liked it. I don't draw often, only when I feel like it. It's a hobby. I know the drawings were awful, but they relaxed me and no one ever saw them.

It was early afternoon when I heard voices behind me. My mum was laughing nervously and someone said something. I didn't recognise the voice, but it was male. I tightened my grip on my pencil. It was him.

I closed my sketchbook before they reached me. Mum put her hand on my shoulder to get my attention.

“This is our son, Dan. Dan this is Phil, he's the person your dad told us about.” Mum said, smiling thinly. I saw the hope in her eyes disappear.

I could tell why. Phil was young. He didn't look much older than me. He looked a little bit taller than I used to be, with black hair and pale skin. He had a Gengar on his t-shirt and wore a hoodie, even in this warmth. His left hand was in the pocket of his hoodie.

“Hey,” I said, deflating. Surely he couldn't be building bionics at his age.

“Hey Dan,” He smiled and I thought it was nice. He had a nice smile, genuine. It suited him.

“I'll leave you boys to talk, I'll be in the living room if you need me.” She shot me a look and left.

I didn't say anything. I looked away from him, staring at the grass. Dad was right not to get my hopes up.

“How did you lose your legs?”

I looked up at him, glaring. “Excuse me?”

He at least had the decency to blush. “Sorry, I didn't mean to sound rude. It just...came out you know? That part of my brain that filters my thoughts before I say them is broken I think, I didn't mean to insult you. “He rambled. “I'm just curious, you don't have to answer...I'm sorry.”

“I don't want to talk about it.” I said curtly.

Phil nodded, looking away from me. He pushed his hands into his pockets. “Do you miss them?”

“What do you think, genius?” I snapped. “You're here for a reason.”

He shook his head. “I know, but... a lot of people I met want prosthetics for a reason that isn't just that they feel incomplete without them. They were athletes and dancers who wanted to do it again. They didn't miss their limbs, just what they could do with them. They didn't believe they still could do it, even without them.”

“That's because they can't.” I snapped. What was he talking about? How can you dance or exercise without limbs?

Phil smiled sadly, deciding to sit on the grass in front of me. “They can. You can dance without legs or an arm. There are the Paralympics, you can be an athlete without limbs. People forget that after they go through a tragedy. They sometimes feel like their life has ended.”

I swallowed, refusing to look at him. “I wasn't an athlete and I have two left feet.” I said. “Does that mean you won't help me?”

He laughed. Laughed. I felt my chest tighten up, why was he laughing at me?

“No. Don't worry, I will help you. I just want to know your reasons. Some people who ask me to build them a bionic prosthetic don't need me to. They realise they can do so much still. Conquer the world without being half a cyborg.” Phil reassured me.

“I...” Deep breaths Dan, deep breaths. “I feel like I wasted my legs when I had them.”

–

We didn't say much after that. Phil said his goodbyes soon after. Mum and dad gave me a sad look and a pat on the shoulder.

What I didn't expect was for Phil to return the next day.

He started to measure things, ask me questions. He had a whole file full of notes and blueprints. My heart filled with hope again. Mum almost cried when she saw the blueprints when she brought snacks for us.

We talked more.

“I'm actually twenty-eight.” Phil said, while scribbling away in his notes. “I've started this when I was twenty though. Wasn't that great at first, but I got my head round it eventually.”

“What made you start it?”

He looked up and smiled at me. It was beautiful. “I'll tell you when you walk again, okay?”

I nodded.

–

Phil came around every other day. Sometimes he brought his notes. Sometimes we just played video games. He said a part of building the prosthetic is getting to know the person who it's made for. I didn't know why, but I didn't mind. I liked the company. It was a change from just seeing my family all the time.

Phil liked to sit on the edge of the sofa, so close that our elbows bumped into each other. Or when we were watching something in my room, he insisted that I should be on the bed with him. Something about not being stuck in the wheelchair all the time. I was either sat with my back pressed against his legs as he laid on his side, or we sat shoulder to shoulder that our hands were almost touching.

I didn't mind.

I got to know him. Four weeks of visits and I my heart warmed when I saw him. When I thought of him. I blushed, even if I didn't want to, when mum teased me about him once he left for the day.

In those four weeks, Phil became my everything.

I didn't know when exactly it happened, but it did. A big part of me hoped that his visits didn't stop after he finishes the prosthetics. A big part of me didn't know what I'd do if I never saw him again after that.

When he arrived on Tuesday, just over four weeks after we met, I was home alone. Dad was at school, Adrian at school and mum went shopping.

He arrived with a big bag.

My heart started racing.

Phil grinned and walked in. We went to the living room and he placed the bag on the table.

“Is it?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the bag.

“Yep.” He popped the p. “Brand new legs coming right up. All shiny and ready to go.”

By ready to go, he meant we still needed prep work. The stumps that were what remained of my original legs had to be disinfected. Both were cut off just above the knee. Phil put down a disposable sheet on the sofa and helped me get on it. It was awkward, and I felt embarrassed, but my excitement beat it all.

He wore rubber gloves for the disinfection and whilst he took the legs out of the bag and got those to be sterile as well. I couldn't help but stare in awe. They looked like something that would come out of a sci-fi movie – strong, shiny and durable. Made to absolute perfection. They bent at the knee and ankle and every single toe was separate.

They were perfect and made just for me.

“I don't suppose you want to wait for your family to come back?” Phil asked.

“I've waited long enough.” He laughed, agreeing with me.

“You might feel a bit of pain when I put them on,” Phil explained. “It's because they will be connecting to your actual body in order to attach themselves to your nervous system. You will not feel any pain from it afterwards, shouldn't anyway. If you do, tell me. The pain is just there so you could control it with your mind like you would with the legs you were born with.”

I nodded numbly. It's been months since I was able to walk and the idea to be able to do it again was crazy. Unreal. Yet within my reach, finally.

It was almost anticlimactic when Phil put the prosthetics on. They came on with ease and after the initial sharp pain, nothing happened. There were no fireworks. No complications. No nothing.

Just two guys sitting in a living room, one kneeling next to the other who just happened to now have metal legs.

“Try moving them.” Phil said quietly.

I bit my lip, nervous and scared all of sudden. What if it didn't work? What if it was all for nothing? I looked at Phil in fright, who smiled at me in reassurance.

He took my hand in his and all was right in the world. “You can do it. It's the moment you've been waiting for.”

I swallowed and squeezed his hand tightly. I had to close my eyes, not wanting to look. Then I thought about straightening my leg, as if it was my real limb.

“Dan,”

I opened my eyes. My leg was straight in front of me while the other was still bent. I stared in awe. I tried to move it back into position and it worked.

It worked.

I looked at Phil, who was smiling brightly at me. His face reminded me of the sun. My heart was elevated.

Without thinking, I kissed him. My hands went to grab his face as I pressed my lips against his and pushed us both onto the floor with the force by accident. I wasn't even worried that he would reject me. I was too happy. I got my legs back. All thanks to the man I've been wanting since we met.

I came to my senses pretty quickly and stopped. Phil's head was still in my hands, he was leaning on his elbows and I was kneeling with one of his outstretched legs between mine. I looked at his face, searching for any sign of rejection.

“Why did you stop?”

“I-I'm sorry, I just got excited and it just happened and yeah” I stammered, rambling excuses as I tried to sit up.

“Dan,” He put one of his hands on my waist. “Kiss me again.”

I did.

–

It took a while and some rehabilitation, but I could use my legs perfectly again. I spent my free time playing Just Dance and signed up for salsa.

Phil didn't come around. Instead, I went to his. I walked there and we spent hours in each other's presence. I dragged him on walks that made Phil collapse into bed when we returned. We kissed and held hands and had lazy Sunday mornings when we were both naked and under the duvets till mid-afternoon, doing nothing but enjoying each other's presence.

It was after my family returned the day I got my bionic legs, that I asked Phil again what made him start making prosthetics. We were out in the garden on the warm summer evening. He was sat down on the grass, but I was standing.

He took off his hoodie and glove. He always wore that glove for the four weeks I knew him. I didn't ask about it before.

His arm was a prosthetic not unlike my legs.

“I changed my university course after I lost my arm. When I realised that I didn't want to live my life without an arm, I took it in my own hands and made one. Made a fair bit of money on the patent as well. Now I'm helping people.”

“You helped me.” I said. “I never said thank you.”

“Don't.” He said. “Because that will make this sound final and I don't want you to leave.”

I sat down next to him, taking his hand in mine. “I won't leave, I promise. You're stuck with me now Lester.”

  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this, I was inspired by seeing those posts on Tumblr of people with prosthetics achieving amazing feats. I haven't wrote a Phan One-Shot in a while, so I hope it's somewhat decent. Please comment and let me know if you want more of this AU :)


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